


Wanna Dance?

by Deriliarch



Series: Prompt list blurbs [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Not necessarily Remadora but it could be read as pre-relationship, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), There's a lot of other people mentioned but I'm not gonna be that guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 20:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14293221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deriliarch/pseuds/Deriliarch
Summary: A collection of short, unrelated prompt fills that different people sent from a prompt list post. Different tones, styles, POV, and relationships feature throughout.--A dance party is hosted at Grimmauld Place to drive away wartime blues for the Order. Remus and Tonks have very different ideas on how party in the first place.





	Wanna Dance?

It didn’t really compute among many of the older members of the Order of the Phoenix when they were called to Grimmauld Place for a scheme concocted by the dangerous trio of Tonks, Fred, and George. They read the message–invitation–and followed the directions and showed up at the appropriate time but the feeling among the adults gathered in the foyer of the dusty house transformed was…glassy bemusement. 

‘Party House’ the excitedly cavorting banner proclaimed. ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘It’s a Girl’ and ‘Get Well Soon’ and, most confusingly, ‘Congratulations on Retirement’ said the balloons that were scattered throughout the house, variously being tied to things they shouldn’t be, allowed free range, or trapped beneath assorted tables, chairs and chandeliers. Remus fancied a nearby Muggle convenience store had been emptied of all it’s party stock, judging on the sheer volume of mismatched balloons, banners, streamers, and strange unexplained crepe-y pom poms that filled the rooms, giving the impression of some type of garish explosion had taken place. There were party hats on all of the stuffed House Elf heads.

The intensity of the festive marinating the house had gone through made Remus suspect that Sirius was not a passive participant in this endeavor. Which was solidified when the 4 culprits boiled out of the kitchen door in an avalanche of  sparkles, polka dots, floral print and plastic beads. Fred seemed to have charmed his hat to be constantly singing while Sirius’ bowtie would intermittently squirt out a disconcertingly violent spray of glitter–which made it difficult to hold a conversation with him. It all smelled of too-sugared drinks and something spicy wafting from the kitchen.

The trouble with many of the oldest members were that they seemed to think that this was an inappropriate use of the Order’s time, to which George had remarked that the pantry was free and clear for hand wringing, which earned him a motherly glare. Those on the younger half just seemed…uncertain of how to unwind. Remus had shown up in his dress robes as instructed but the well worn, if not well loved outfit seemed as somber as an undertaker’s suit surrounded by such exuberance and it made him feel out of place. Uncomfortable. 

Eventually, the uncertain tension unwound itself and various robes and wraps were divested in favor of drinks and snack dishes and sometimes the sheepish waving of what Tonks excitedly named ‘glow sticks’. Harry told Remus in undertones that he had introduced to her to them and agreed to supply them for the party–in fact, he seemed to have been their Muggle supplies liason for the whole plan. The atmosphere became warmer, closer, and lighter as conversations and laughter broke out. Someone started some raucous music that just managed to border obnoxiously loud.

“Hey there, party pooper! Wanna dance?”

Remus was snapped out of his fond observance of the festivities to see Tonks in front of him, wearing rainbow star-shaped sunglasses pushed up into her lime green hair and holding out her hand with a grin. “Not a party pooper,” he objected. “And–” he glanced at the surprisingly full dance floor-living room hybrid with a small smile. “Er, no thanks. I’m alright here.”

She rolled her eyes and plunked herself down next to him on the couch in a cloud of old Madam Black’s ingrained perfume and her own pleasant post-dance fragrance. “What’s the point of coming to a party if you won’t have fun?”

“I’m having fun,” he said, refusing to be goaded. “For me, it’s more enjoyable to watch others have fun than to participate. A sort of…party by proxy.”

She wrinkled her face doubtfully, but looked out at the partyers as he did. Together, they watched Arthur accidentally break an old family portrait opening a bottle of champagne, at which Sirius roared with laughter. Fred, George, and Ginny all managed to convince Molly to join them on the dance floor to an old classic and tried to teach her one of their moves, which she refused, but did teach  _them_ one of her own. Hermione and McGonagall were talking about something over the back of a winged armchair with increasing conviction as Ron kept secretly replenishing Minerva’s drinks as soon as she ran low. Hagrid and Harry were playing a game of Exploding Snap in front of the completely unnecessary, yet cheery fire. Dumbledore even stopped by, later in the night, and a few others drifted in and out. Tonks sat with him a while as the songs changed and the conversations ebbed and flowed, while the curry was brought out and shared and the dancing resumed. 

Eventually, she turned to him with shining eyes and an enlightened smile. 

“Huh!”


End file.
